


Let Me Satisfy Your Soul

by Thatscoolbutwhataboutlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Because Ancient Greece, Bottom Harry, Falling In Love, Feminine Harry, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Harry in a Dress, Harry is Meg, Hate Sex, Kissing, Louis Smokes, Love Triangles, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Riding, Rimming, Shotgunning, Smoking, So many flowers, Top Liam, Top Louis, Very Very Mild, Which entails, and love is never simple, he's called miss and goddess, it's technically a chiton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatscoolbutwhataboutlarry/pseuds/Thatscoolbutwhataboutlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I guess I'm just bad news."</p><p>"Then I suppose I'm doomed."</p><p> </p><p>Disney's Hercules doused in mature elements and dangers at every turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> The mild dubious consent as mentioned in the tags is both mild and dubious. It's a no to yes situation. If that's a trigger, skip the smut or skip the chapter or skip the entire story. Do whatever you feel necessary. You're incredible.
> 
> On a less serious note, this short more of a prologue is meant to be the first chapter of the Hercules fic as it is being called. Don't let the title fool you, Hercules (or Liam) does not come in until the second chapter. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to him.
> 
> {Anyone who know me knows that I love BØRNS more than myself so the title is from BØRNS' Holy Ghost.}
> 
> Here it is, Chapter I of the Hercules fic.

**I**

 

It all started with a handshake. A simple deal laced with darkness and manipulation hidden just beneath the surface. A deceitful lie where only one party knew what the outcome of the situation would be. An agreement that led to hot tears streaming down his cheeks and anguish almost too painful to deal with. A mistake that Harry would have known better than to make had he been in the right state of mind.

The right state of mind would have been a time when Harry was not grieving the loss of his boyfriend. He truly loved Ben, so of course when the chance to bring him back from his untimely death arose, Harry accepted, thinking of nothing other than getting than his handsome boyfriend back. 

What he didn't count on was his love not being reciprocated by the man that he made the devious deal to save. The man Harry had once been shunned by his family for loving ran off with the first woman who smiled and bat her eyelashes at him, leaving Harry chained to an evil so petrifying that Harry had not even had the nerves to look him in the eye while shaking his hand. Little does he know, that evil man who he couldn't even look at would become the man he turns to in times of distress in the span of only a few hours.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

Both the pain of betrayal and his fear of the man that he is now a slave to lead Harry to conceal himself in his new room, watching drops appear on the woollen cloak, polka dotting his bedding. The cloth soaks up the tear drops, but the tears leave their trace behind still.

Each tear resembles a raindrop falling from a cloud onto the ground below, creating a sound nearly as mighty as thunder. The thunder claps in Harry's case are his sobs. The boy, however, can hardly hear his own sobs over the sound of his heart breaking into countless pieces. Unfortunately the deafening sound of his own heart crumbling in on itself continues to plague Harry until something stops it.

The same hand that had begun the mess that Harry is in now is resting on Harry's shoulder, muting the sound of his heart. Harry slowly turns to face him, meeting his fiery blue eyes with his tear filled ones precariously. The evil that Harry has sold his soul to sits down beside him, immersing Harry in a hug. The tormented boy melts into the God's grasp and allows the sobs he has been suppressing to fall from his mouth.

Even hugging the villain is akin to looking at him. The danger he emits seeps through all layers of clothing and reaches out for Harry's warm but shattered heart with a cold, unnerving hand. Regardless of this fact, much like the immortal's pleasing physical features, his embrace is comforting especially during such a trying time. Harry hadn't wanted to look away from his humanizing scruff, and he doesn't want to move away from his consoling touch. Rather, he wants to move closer, be closer. 

This man, this immortal, this antihero, despite his perverseness, is here for Harry at this very moment, the moment that Harry most needs someone. He's no light to guide Harry through the darkness, in fact, if anything he is more darkness, but he's a darkness that Harry can cry into without fear of being ridiculed, a darkness that makes Harry feel less alone.

As his despair slowly subsides, he pulls away from the dark God, sniffling weakly and rallying up the courage to look him in the eyes once more. There's something different about them, they still appear to resemble fire despite their aquatic colour, but it's as if they're darker yet burning brighter at the same time. Harry would never have been able to explain it, would sound ridiculous if he attempted to, but he knows something is off.

He isn't allowed the time to contemplate why the God's eyes are the way they are because before he can even process the motion, the man's hand is on his waist. Harry opens his mouth slightly, well aware that he should say something but not knowing what to say. It's as if all articulate thoughts have transformed into birds and flown from his mind as the man before him diminishes the distance between their bodies. Their lips are pressed together in a dark and evil whirlwind of misery. As dreary as the kiss feels, it's the first time Harry has been kissed like this since before Ben's death.

Kissing Ben had been something Harry did whenever he got the chance. They would kiss every time they were alone, Harry's arms coming to wrap around Ben's neck as Ben's wrapped around his waist. It was his happy place, lips on Ben's while snuggled into his arms. It made him feel like everything was going to be alright, like what the townspeople said didn't matter, that love could prevail. 

He was foolish to have thought that, he now knows, but he had been so lost in love that it didn't matter. Love is a cruel joke.

The same hand that muted the sound of Harry's heart falling apart, the same hand that began all of his woes, is on his thigh as another rests on his waist, keeping him steady. That accursed hand that has managed to find where Harry's chiton rode up, exposing his leg and giving the God access to his thigh along with access to his mouth when Harry gasps at the cool touch on his soft skin.

The emotional and physical reactions only escalate from there.

Mortal Harry is pushed back onto his bed, legs spread as the immortal situates himself between his legs, lips still moving together with Harry's in a slow, flaming dance. Harry knows that letting a god kiss him, caress him, be intimate with him is a horrible idea, but he's in need of comfort, and this god, this owner of his soul, is willing to provide that.

The God's hands rub up and down Harry's body, squeezing his thighs and chub of his hip. They start out slow and sensual, but by the time Harry notices a bottle of olive oil that he is sure wasn't there before, they have quickened their pace.

Harry hasn't the slightest idea of what he is supposed to do at this moment. He is on the verge of having sex with a real God and knows that this is not a situation he should be in. Then again, ideal situations are overrated. No, laying on his bed with the Lord of Darkness between his legs is not something his parents would be proud of, but they also had not commended him when he found his true love, retrospectively a smart move on their part.

This is different than Ben, though. This is a God who owns his soul and could have him killed with a snap of his fingers. Protesting might cost him his life. He's not sure if it is all truly worth it.

"No," Harry whispers inaudibly, twisting his head away from the man's. "No," he repeats as the man mouths at his neck, hands still testing uncharted waters.

Before he is allowed the opportunity to object further, the hand that was on his hip slides beneath his ass and lightly brushes over what feels like the most sensitive part of Harry's body at the moment. 

Harry forgets that the owner of the fingers that are brushing over his hole teasingly is the same person who shook his hand, introduced himself as "Louis, Lord of the Dead," and convinced Harry that selling his soul to him was the only valid option during the time of mourning. He forgets that the man who is wetly kissing up his neck is actually the most feared God in all of Greece, so feared that people refuse to speak his name aloud. He is forgetting many things, but there is a forefinger pressed up against his hole tortuously, so it truly is understandable.

"Yes," Harry gasps when a suddenly slick finger presses into his hole.

All too quickly, his mind has been changed from protesting sexual activity with this powerful creature to encouraging it. It might be good for him to think about something other than the fact that he's short of a soul because he wanted to save the man who is probably smooching some woman without sparing a thought for the reason he is breathing.

Harry is taken away from his irate thoughts when Louis adds a second finger, stretching his hole open even more. Deciding to concentrate on that feeling rather than his resentment, Harry moans and runs his fingers through his hair to push the curls out of his face. The man, the God, Louis adjusts their positions slightly, fingers still buried in Harry's ass, so he is able to look down at Harry comfortably. It is also perfect for Harry to remove the God's garments, a tenuous but rewarding task due to the fingers in his hole.

Just as Harry tosses the last piece of cloth onto the floor, the ruler of the Underworld twists his fingers against Harry's prostate. The reaction he gets is immediate. Harry grabs the wool beneath him and makes a noise similar to a scream. There are waves traveling through his veins, touching every nerve and making him arch his back as he searches for more of the pleasure.

"Oh, God," Harry moans thoughtlessly.

The Lord of death smiles lecherously. It's a smile that distracts the boy from chasing the feeling and brings on a cloud of concern. If the smile didn't give it away, the evil glint in the God's eye most definitely would have. Harry is reminded that Louis is a merciless God who controls the souls of the damned, the soul of Harry. He has plucked Harry's freedom from him as simply as plucking a pomegranate from a tree.

"Using my name in vain while I'm right here? Darling, I believe you might be getting a bit too comfortable with me."

The two seemingly amusing sentences make Harry freeze, blood running cold. With glassy, green eyes, he meets the Lord Louis' own eyes before saying a sentence so distancing and perilous that he wonders if the God will be able to overlook his disrespect.

"You are no God of mine."

Harry resists the strong urge he has to shy away from the God, look away from his dark, brooding eyes. The only reason he doesn't is because all of a sudden a change occurring in his eyes. They are no longer blue; they have become a fiery red-orange colour. They're so flame-like that Harry believes that he might burn himself if he gets too close. It takes him a moment to realize that they are this way because he has angered the God.

Lord Louis thrusts a third finger into Harry's hole without warning, earning a whimper from the boy beneath him. He doesn't tolerate people disregarding his power and status as one of the twelve major Greek Gods. In fact, he's killed someone for addressing him without an appropriate title before his name. He loathes disrespect, but he likes the way he can make this flippant boy fall apart with nothing but a few movements of his fingers. If he moves them the right way, Harry screams and does everything in his power to get the God to do it again.

Once the Lord of Death removes his fingers from Harry's hole, Harry whines but is quickly hushed by Louis. "You're fortunate that your beauty masks your impertinent attitude," is what the God comments as he runs his hands down the curves of Harry's body.

Legs still spread, Harry watches the owner of his life for the next ten years spread the mysterious bottle of oil over his cock. He wraps his legs around the God's torso when he gets back in their original position, connecting their lips and moving his hand slowly down from where it came to rest on Harry's waist.

Harry feels something pressing against his hole, stretching his rim and slowly filling him up. He moans into the God's mouth and allows himself a second to adjust to the pain before he digs his nails into Louis' skin and tells him to move, voice sounding much steadier than he feels. On the inside, he's a jumble of despair and fear, but on the outside, he is cold, deadly. As long as the God only sees what Harry is showing on the outside, he should be fine.

Unfortunately, a sign of his inner emotions spills to the outside in the form of a tear and Louis, Ruler of the Dead, chooses that moment to examine Harry's pulchritude. He is taken aback by the tear, bewildered and in the slightest form, frightened.

"You're crying," the God notes, unknowing of what to do about this fact.

"I'm fine," Harry protests. " _Move_."

So the God of the Underworld complies, fucking Harry slowly but with plenty of vigour. At the same time, the God also meets Harry's eyes, eyes finally returned to their normal colour again, and wipes the tear off of his cheek gently. Harry flinches, squeezing his eyes closed to avoid looking at Louis any more than he already has.

The God, out of ideas on how to gain Harry's trust, gives in and concentrates on quickening his thrusts. He knows that Harry will appreciate this if nothing else. When his cock hits Harry's prostate, Harry moans and curses lightly, assuring Louis of his appreciation. The God thrusts against that same spot again, making Harry whimper and pull Louis even closer. He whines into Louis' neck helplessly, begging him to _just fuck him_.

Harry feels weak underneath Louis, can barely keep his legs around the God's waist, but the deity makes sure that Harry knows that this is unnecessary by holding onto Harry's leg for him. It's a kind offer, but Harry doesn't want to accept Lord Louis' charity. He doesn't want to accept anything from him except for his cock.

His hand cards through the God's soft brown hair, pulling at the strands as Louis kisses his jaw and fucks Harry the way the mortal has been begging for. Harry gasps, toes curling up at the sensation that the Lord of souls is providing. Louis' cock presses against Harry's prostate, making Harry moan loudly.

Time comes to a standstill as Harry feels his sudden orgasm approaching. It's sudden, overcoming him like a cloud moving out of the way to let the sun shine its rays down upon the earth and powerful like a fire burning through the forest. The lack of expectation is what really gets Harry, though. 

He shudders with the feeling, moaning and pulling the Dark Lord closer than what feels physically possible. The God groans lowly as Harry clenches so warmly, so tightly around his cock. Harry's hole delivers inexplicable sensations to the God of the Underworld's dick, but the sensations that Harry is feeling are even stronger and lead Harry to a foggy state of mind where he remains for the rest of the night.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

Some parts of the rest of the night are clearer than others. He doesn't remember when Lord Louis came, but he does remember whining about how sticky his bum was, so Louis must have reached his orgasm soon after he did. Harry also vaguely remembers pouting when Louis collected his robes and left Harry in his strange, new room alone, the way it remains still. 

As Harry looks around the room, he sees no trace of Louis whatsoever. All remanence of what had happened that night have been cleaned up, and the other side of the sheets are cold, proving what Harry already knew, that Louis had not spent the night.

In some ways, the lack of the God is relieving. Harry is ashamed by his moment of weakness and most definitely does not want Lord Louis here to confirm what had come from that moment. He was supposed to keep his distance from the God, remain aloof to keep the God from thinking that there was a chance of any kind of friendship or relationship. 

Yet another plan derailed from the tracks of Harry's hopes and dreams.

The echo of footsteps approaching make Harry freeze and cover himself up with his chiton. He recognizes the quiet yet powerful stride, heard it over the sounds of his sobs twice. Once when he was laid across his boyfriend's corpse, and once when he realized what a horrible mistake he had made. Now he's hearing them again after making another regrettable mistake. He can only pray to Zeus that it does not become a pattern.

Silently Harry begs Louis to walk away, just leave him to wallow in his pool of self pity, but interpreting Harry's internal thoughts does not seem to be the God's strong point. Either that or he is purposely ignoring Harry's pleads. He continues walking towards Harry and when he reaches him, he speaks. "Would you like a tour?"

Harry wants to tell him that he would like for Louis to leave him alone, but he has a feeling that it would not go over well. Besides, if he is being forced to stay in this wretched world, he might as well know his way around, so Harry nods melancholically and fastens the clip of his chiton that had somehow come unclipped before following the powerful being.

The Underworld, as it turns out, is just as bleak as Harry had imagined it. 

Fire lightly illuminates the path that they follow, ridding the walk of some of the brooding darkness. There is also a threatening growl coming from somewhere in the distance, the growl of who can only be the God's horrifying guard dog, Cerberus. Along with the growl, comes the faint sound of human souls wailing in misery. 

Every bleak detail of Lord Louis' kingdom creates the empty feeling of fear in Harry's heart, for he knows that this will be his home for the next ten years and the for the rest of eternity once his time on earth comes to an end.

A chill runs down Harry's spine at the thought of living in this gruesome world with the mighty God beside him. The yearning for his old home has already nestled itself into Harry's heart and almost makes Harry wish that his heart was with his soul, out of his body, somewhere it could not cause him any pain. Lord Louis seems to sense Harry's misery, for he glances over at the youth and quickens their pace.

Before Harry can even ask where their destination is, they have arrived. Harry stumbles back slightly upon seeing how close he is to the edge of a cliff. The cliff, he realizes once he raises his line of sight, looks out onto a great darkness, and for the first time, Harry can see the all of the miserable souls who have been damned to roam the most unappealing part of the Underworld.

"Wretched, isn't it?" The amused tone in his voice contradicts the words coming from his mouth. "Absolutely lugubrious."

He doesn't dare speak against or with what Lord Louis has said in fear of upsetting him. Instead he precariously questions the phrases, looking up at the God of the Underworld with eyes painted with inquiry.

"I never wanted to rule over this sorry realm. I could be lounging up in Olympus rather than toiling away down here. That lightning-loving lunatic is the sole reason for my misfortune. His selfish desires are why I am constrained to this miserable land of the damned." Louis meets Harry's eyes suddenly. The red flames have reappeared in his eyes during his diatribe, warning Harry of his change in mood. "He will recant. He will be the one to dwell in this hell, and I will rule all."

Quickly looking away from the ambitious God and at the chasm, Harry wraps his arms around himself and shivers. When he agreed to give up his soul for a decade, he never anticipated that he would be living with an incredibly attractive megalomaniac. Harry misses the ease he used to feel before he met Ben, the man who changed his life for the worse.

Agreeing to give up his soul in exchange for his boyfriend's life to be restored was the worst possible decision that Harry could have made. Harry knows that, but what he doesn't know is just what his poor judgement would cost him.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

Arms crossed, Harry shakes his head and turns away from Louis. The God uses his power to force Harry to look at him again, earning a huff from the stubborn beauty. No matter how obstinate , Louis knows that he will have to conform to his wishes if he does not want to see his freedom dissipate in front of him.

"You have no choice in the matter," Louis threatens, stepping closer to Harry. "You will convince Nessus to join my cause, and you will do so without further argument."

"I have all the choice in the matter! Do you think that just because we fuck I'm automatically your little bitch?"

"No, you're my little bitch because I own your soul. Never mind the fact that I'm a God, and you are but a petulant mortal child. You should be on your knees, bowing and praying to me every time you are in my presence," Lord Louis warns, grabbing Harry's chin forcefully. "Now do as I have told you or I will add two years to your sentence. You only have six left. Do you really want that to be eight?"

Eight more years down in this wretched prison. Eight more years of the God before him degrading him and using him to get what he wants. Eight more years of passionate make out sessions fuelled by hate. Eight more years of dropping to his knees before Lord Louis to not pray. Eight more years of Louis grabbing Harry's ass whenever the opportunity presented itself, even in front of his staff. Eight more years of servitude to gain back his freedom from a God who should not have taken it in the first place.

He can't do it. Eight years is far too long. In eight years, he could be a happily married thirty year old with a loving husband and a few children. He will not allow himself to still be working for his freedom when that could be his future. Persuading the River Guardian to join the God of the Underworld's war should not be too difficult of a task. Harry always has been good at getting people to do what he wants. A centaur should be no different.

So Harry shakes his head despondently, long brown hair flying around his shoulders and hitting Louis' hand from where its grip remains on Harry's jaw. "Okay, I'll do it."


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Liam makes a heroic entrance, and Harry is less than impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Hercules' true name was Heracles. Nessus, the River Guardian, killed him by giving Heracles' wife his blood in some for that he claimed was a love potion. The blood was actually toxic and killed him.
> 
> That is not what happens in this chapter, but I thought it was interesting. Do what you will with that information.
> 
> This is entirely self edited, so all mistakes are my own. Apologies in advance!

**II**

  
Being ostracized as a child was not a pleasant thing. It made him wonder why no matter how hard he tried, how pure his intentions were, everything always went awry when he attempted to help someone else. He had once destroyed an agora just by trying to fit in with a group of boys his age. It was that same day that the entire town called him a freak and told him that he was not welcome anywhere near them. Liam understood their reasoning. He was unnaturally strong, and that could be frightening. He was a freak. He just didn't know why.

The day he found the truth about his origin was one of the happiest days of his life. For the first time, he was okay with being different, with being a "freak," because he was a God who could someday restore his godhood. It was also that magical day during which Liam met who would become his two best friends; a pegasus with a mane of clouds and the man who was to train him.

His trainer was a pessimistic man whose eyes resembled the sky and hair, aside from the goatish ears sticking up from it, the sun. While Niall had been hopeful at the beginning of his career, years of failures and disappointments had slowly worn him down to the point where he had little to no hope at all. Liam was determined to prove him wrong and after working with Niall to achieve his peak physical fitness, transformed from an unnaturally strong but skinny child to a muscular man ready to conquer all evils that he came across.

Aiming to become a hero and regain his godhood, Liam pressured Niall to take him somewhere he could fight a real monster. So on the back of Pegasus, they flew towards Thebes, oblivious to what would bring a temporary halt to their progress.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

His heart feels as if it's going to spring from his chest and fall into the water below. He has trained for years for this day, the day where he would finally battle his first real monster, perhaps save his first damsel. Niall told him that the chances of rescuing a damsel on his first day were slim, but Liam, unlike Niall, is an optimist. The sun has barely risen, and Liam has already risen his hopes to their apex. He is going to become a hero, and one day he will be able to live with his mother and father on Mount Olympus like he is supposed to.

A blood curdling scream shakes Liam from his daydreams and back into reality. The noise seems to have perked Niall up as well, for he looks down in search of the source of the scream. Pegasus is the first of them to spot the commotion and whinnies lightly to alert them.

"Looks like you might have found yourself a damsel in distress today after all," Niall agrees just before Pegasus zooms off towards the pandemonium.

When they land, Liam immediately dismounts his flying horse and catches sight of a monstrous brute holding a person around their small waist. The aforementioned damsel in distress is possibly the most beautiful person Liam has ever laid eyes on. Granted, Liam can only see their back, but with curly, brown hair, sprightly yet adept attitude, and a body that rivals Aphrodite's herself, Liam knows that they must be some sort of goddess.

"Your first step," Niall begins as the beauty attempts to free themself from the grasp of the beast. "Is to formulate a plan. Think it through. No going in there half-arsed and–" Niall stops talking once he realizes that Liam is already striding towards the creature. "Damn it, Liam! You're losing points for this!"

"Cease this!" Liam booms, standing tall in front of the monster who is quarrelling with the damsel in his hand.

Both participants in the disagreement divert their attention from each other and focus on the man addressing them. Liam makes sure to hold his ground even as they face him. It's an incredible moment not only because he is about to fight his first monster and save his first damsel in distress, but because for the first time, Liam is able to see the beauty's front.

The Grecian beauty has bright green eyes and pink, plush lips both of which contrast his dark hair and light complexion. His eyelashes are long with tiny droplets of the river's water collected on them. Liam is positive that the vision before him is part of an elaborate daydream, and he will soon awaken to yet another day of training with Niall. However, as many times as he blinks and attempts to pull himself from what feels like a dream, the beautiful creation remains in the hands of the repulsive centaur.

"This does not concern you," the beast speaks. "Leave now, puny human."

The word 'puny' makes Liam cringe. He worked with Phil for years to become muscular and hero-like. To have all that time and effort disregarded by the very monster he will be fighting is slightly demeaning.

"Until you release this immaculate vision, this does concern me," Liam continues, refusing to let the centaur's words get to him.

"This 'immaculate vision' can take care of himself. Thanks, though."

It is the first time the goddess has opened his mouth to speak and despite his telling Liam to go away, Liam feels even more enamoured than before. The damsel projects so much confidence and hauteur that there is no possibility of Liam feeling angered by the beauty's rejection. All he can think about is how kittenish the goddess is and how much he would like to rescue him from the evils of the world.

"Miss, I believe you're underestimating just how perilous of a situation you have found yourself in."

Liam is too busy admiring the gorgeous damsel's reaction to his sentence to notice when the beast holding that damsel becomes past done with Liam's heroic antics. Perhaps if the damsel had not been a goddess, Liam would have been able to avoid the punch, but instead Liam is sent to the other side of the river. His sword has vanished from its sheath, leaving him without a weapon, and the beast is approaching him with a villainous cackle. Frantically searching for his sword, Liam tries to draw up a plan, but only draws blanks. The River Guardian is standing above him before he can even think to run.

His sword is nowhere to be found, and Liam is about to go up against his first real monster. He stands no chance, but when he looks up at the bored beauty, he is reminded of why he needs to defeat this horrid beast. He will not let himself go defeated during his first battle, especially not when a goddess' wellbeing is at stake.

Standing up from the water, Liam silently tells the beast to let go of the maiden one last time before he balls his hand into a fist and punches the brute's stomach with as much strength as he possesses. Miraculously, that sends the wretch flying backwards, surprising him so much that he drops the goddess as soon as the impact is made. The vision falls, freed from the grasps of the River Guardian and into the water of the river itself.

The beauty sits up, coughing, with his hair soaking wet and hiding his face. Each curl that is stuck to his skin more closely resembles the waves made in the river than their original curly state of being. Liam quickly scoops his tiny figure out of the body of water and gently sets him on top of a rock that juts out over the riverbank.

As the drenched goddess moves his hair away from his eyes, Liam pries his own eyes away from the nameless damsel's body in fear of becoming mesmerized by the way his chiton sticks to his body. He doesn't want to notice how his hard nipples protrude from the fabric, or how undeniable his curvaceous body is. No. He has a job to do and that job does not include ogling the damsel's body.

"I'm so sorry, miss. I didn't think that through," Liam explains awkwardly, nervously pushing a strand of hair out of the beautiful stranger's face.

"I could tell," the damsel replies facetiously, wringing out the bottom of his chiton before looking behind Liam at the approaching beast. Liam gets the hint and turns to face the creature with the bloody forehead.

As Liam charges toward the River Guardian, the beauty he is infatuated with watches on with a roll of his eyes. He goes back to fixing his hair, attempting to pull the water from it and push it back into place. His hair is practically back to its curly ways when Liam slams the monster down onto the riverbed, inadvertently splashing the object of his lust and ruining his hair again. The beautiful being exhales sharply, shaking the water off of his hands and glaring at both the creature and the heroic Liam.

"Is he serious?" The goddess mumbles, just barely coherent and completely unaware of the nearing satyr.

"He's incredibly serious, pretty babe. As am I. My name is Niall," Niall introduces himself, smiling and slicking his hair back. "What in Zeus' creation is a gorgeous doll like you doing with that slobbering monster when you could be with a real man?"

After examining Niall and his goat-like features, the living daydream scoffs and turns away from him. Niall, rejected, huffs and walks back towards Pegasus who only laughs at him. Grumbling, Niall shoves Pegasus' snout to force him to stop laughing.

Liam and the River Guardian are still engaged in their battle with Liam easily taking the lead. The beast has a bruised eye and scrapes covering his face and body. Liam has twisted the brute's arm in an unnatural position to dodge the creature's attacks and somehow slammed his elbow into his nose, creating a stream of blood flowing into the river of blood. Liam has not avoided all harm though. His mouth is bleeding, upper lip swollen and bruised. The scratches littering his body are fewer than that on the River Guardian, but they are deeper and longer, evening out somewhat.

Staring into the distant eyes of the horrendous beast, Liam breathes heavily, wondering what to do with the centaur. His grip around his sword tightens as he remembers the way the brute handled the goddess and he spits the blood in his mouth out at the monster before giving him one last punch to send him further down the river.

Niall jumps into the river as Liam walks over and punches the dizzy man on his sore pec. To have someone punch him after he finished his first heroic act is confusing, and Liam doesn't know where to begin with his questions. He feels like he is about to faint and the punch did nothing to help him.

"That was juvenile, Liam! You cannot eschew everything I have taught you simply because some babe bats her eyelashes at you," Niall complains. There is a rant coming on, so Liam's attention drifts away from Niall, away from Pegasus, towards a figure bent over a separate part of the river. Eventually, his body follows his attention, and he walks towards the gorgeous stranger.

The stranger is turned away from Liam, still bent over the river, as Liam approaches. He is far too beautiful for Liam to even lay his eyes on, but Liam can't pry his eyes away from the goddess. The fabric of his chiton still clings to the curves of his body, giving Liam an indecently accurate idea of what lies beneath. Liam takes a deep breath, reminding himself that this is a new him, a new chance to be the hero who rescues the maiden and is shown immense gratitude from the aforementioned damsel out of distress.

"Hi," Liam greets apprehensively. "I hope that monster didn't give you too much of a hard time, miss...."

"Harry," the goddess answers, standing up in such a way that his hair flies out of his face for a quick minute, flinging drops of water onto Liam, before a breeze forces the curls to hide his eyes again. Harry is perfect, Liam realizes, absolutely perfect and so out of his league that they aren't even playing the same sport anymore. "And you? I'm sure whoever created such a mount of muscle provided an appropriate name."

Words have never truly been Liam's strong suit, and having such a beautiful person in front of him does not make the task of coming up with them any easier. Nonetheless, Liam is ashamed of himself when the only thing that comes out of his mouth is nonsense. He is embarrassing himself in front of the very person he wants to impress. How very like him.

"Heroic and articulate; a total package," Harry laughs lightly, beginning to turn away from him.

"Liam!" He finally manages to spit out. "My name is Liam." Harry faces him again, awaiting his next question. "So, um, how did you get mixed up with... Uh..."

The now-named beauty sighs thoughtfully. "Things with Nessus didn't exactly go how they were supposed to," is all he reveals.

Liam isn't sure what Harry means by 'the way they were supposed to', but it really isn't any of his business. That does not stop Liam from wondering why Harry was talking to him and how it was supposed to go. Harry is secretive, intriguing, mystical, alluring. He is a mystery that Liam wants to unravel, strand after strand, piece after beautiful piece.

Harry must feel as though he needs to change the subject from the possibly revealing one to one he is more comfortable with, for he takes a step closer to Liam, wipes a drop of blood off of Liam' chin and frowns. "Your lips are all bruised," he points out, pulling Liam's face down so that their faces are only inches from each other's. Then he does what Liam most wants but least expects.

He kisses him.

Harry leans up and presses his pretty, pink lips against Liam's bloody, bruised ones, hands bracing Liam's face to keep Liam from pulling away in shock. Then he lets go and pulls away with a smile, leaving Liam to process what has just happened.

Liam looks back to Pegasus, wondering if the horse can provide him with any clarification on what Harry has just done. Pegasus looks just as confused, so Liam decides to simply stare at Harry, open-mouthed. He is about collect himself enough to ask Harry where he lives so that they can drop him off, but Niall interrupts his train of thought by declaring that they need to get a move on.

Harry is walking away by the time Liam opens his mouth to offer him a ride, so Liam decides to forgo his original plan and instead watch Harry disappear into the dark forest. His sweet kiss still lingers on Liam's lips, and Liam can only pray to his father that he will see the beauty again. The thought continues to trouble Liam throughout the flight to the polis that he will get his start in.

"Harry is pretty gorgeous, isn't he?" Liam begins, looking down at the houses scattered below. Niall only grumbles in response. "Do you think I'll ever see him again?"

Niall snorts at that. "Let's hope not. I'm telling you," he warns. "That colleen is nothing but trouble."

"But he's so pretty," is Liam's reasoning.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

Before Liam went to train with Niall, his history with relationships and friendships in general had been nonexistent. The other boys in town all got girlfriends and ditched their friends for them. Liam never had friends or a girlfriend to ditch those nonexistent friends for.

It wasn't that he was physically unappealing. Even when he was less muscular, Liam had other attractive traits such as his kind brown eyes and soft, touchable hair. His physical appearance was definitely not the reason for his lack of a girlfriend. That was caused more by his status as a social outcast.

He was the only boy in the village that had no friends. Perhaps it was because of his clumsy, destructive nature or possibly his inhuman strength. Either way it seemed as though no one even wanted to talk to him. If he walked up to someone, they would pretend to see something and walk away quickly. If he joined a conversation, everyone would ignore his commentary and continue talking as if he wasn't standing right there. There were some days that he felt like even his family didn't want to be around him.

Once when he was sixteen, he asked a girl that he had a crush on out. She said that she was not looking for a relationship at the moment. Two days later, she was kissing one of the boys known for often speaking poorly of him. Liam knew that if he didn't tie down his heart at that moment, right then and there, he would be in that position of anguish more often than he would have liked.

That heartbreak was what caused Liam to give up on his social life and spend his free time with his family, working in the field with his father and helping his mother out at home. He swore to himself that he would never fall for any other girl to avoid that feeling, and he has kept that promise.

Even though Liam's knowledge and experience with such things is fairly limited, he knows that Harry's beauty is spectacular. The fact that he would decide to kiss Liam makes it fairly obvious that being a hero will drastically change his life. So far, it looks like they will change for the better.

Liam still remembers the day the town turned on him. He felt so desperate to fit in, to be accepted, but he knew it would never happen. He would always be an outsider, an outcast. But now. Now things have changed. Now he's a hero. Now anything can happen. Now he can fall in love without fear of breaking his heart so tragically along the way.

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

They have been flying for about ten minutes, Liam watching the trees pass below him and searching for people travelling to different city-states for one reason or another. There are few that he can spot, but they all have one thing in common; they have friends. Something Liam had only dreamed of before he met his flying horse and his trainer who also happen to act as his friends.

"You never told me where we're going," Liam points out.

Niall who has forgotten about the vexatious maiden perks up at the teaching opportunity. "You'll be getting your start in the trouble ridden polis of Thebes."

Liam's face drops, eyes filling with concern. He would rather try to turn Sparta into a peaceful city-state than go back to Thebes. There is a large mess that Liam left behind, a mother and father who loved him so much even if he wasn't their son by blood. Liam can not bear the thought of looking into their eyes after he left to discover the truth and never returned to give them that truth.

He decides to follow rule two of Niall's hero rules and not let personal life get in the way of heroism, so he considers every way that this day could go well and smiles, telling Niall that he can't wait to visit the polis.

When they arrive, Liam dismounts Pegasus just to almost be run over by someone's chariot. The driver is one of the boys Liam had wanted to become friends with as a child. It has been years, and Liam is still treated as if he doesn't exist. It hurts less now than it had before even though the wheel did run over Liam's foot. Even with that foot pain, it hurts less. Perhaps he is still filled dopamine from Harry's kiss. If so, he never wants the neurotransmitter to leave, never wants Harry to leave.

Admiring the city-state he had once called home, Liam sees exactly what Niall had described while boosting the city-state; turmoil. Many buildings are in ruins and the people are clothed in chitons that are ripped up and covered with dirt. A man is standing on the sidewalk in nothing but a loincloth proclaiming the end of the world. Thebes has so drastically changed since Liam lived here that he can barely recognize it.

Niall leads him past these people, searching for somewhere in the midst of a catastrophe. Liam also keeps his eyes peeled, but he is really looking at how downhill the polis he grew up in has gone. He has only been gone for a few years, but almost nothing is recognizable. The old agora he had destroyed is still the way he remembers it from that dreadful day sans the cruel townspeople blaming him for ruining their lives. These people instead are complaining about earthquakes and crime rates while Liam saves damsels in distress and ever so heroically combats monstrous creatures.

After they have walked for a minute or so, Niall stops suddenly. Liam tears his eyes away from the an old bakery that must gave burned down a while ago to see a man attempting to steal something from another man who Liam recognizes oddly well. It takes a second for Liam to realize who it is, but once he does, he freezes. Seeing the father who took him in as his own even though he isn't was one of the only things Liam did not want to happen.

Rule number two of heroism. Liam can't let this affect him.

With a shove, Niall tells Liam to get to saving the day. He stumbles at first but then catches his balance and runs towards the villain. When he isn't noticed at first, he turns the robber to face him before punching him lightly. The criminal falls backwards to the ground, cradling his nose in pain and scooting away from Liam as quickly as possible.

As soon as Liam is sure that the criminal is not planning on robbing anyone else anytime soon, he turns to help the victim. He refrains as much as possible from looking him in the eye, but when the man thanks him in the same voice that had assured Liam that there were no monsters under his bed, he can't help it. The old man's eyes widen in surprise before a smile appears on his face.

"Liam," the man breathes out. "Son."

The thing is that Liam isn't his son. Not biologically anyways, but he still refers to Liam as his son because that's who Liam is to him. No matter how old Liam gets, no matter how powerful he becomes, no matter who Liam is, he will always be his son. He might be Zeus' son by blood, but he is Amphitryon's by heart.

"Father," Liam greets, helping the man stand up. "So many things have changed since I was here last. What happened to the polis I remember?"

"You have been gone for years, my son. Crime proliferated at an unholy rate just weeks after you left to discover the truth. You can't go anywhere without the fear of being jumped for the little you have left."

That knowledge hits Liam harder than it should. For years and years, he thought he was the reason for the city-state's woes, but now he sees that it wasn't him at all. It was doomed from the moment it was built. If anything, Liam kept it from becoming this crime infested. Every hateful shout that Liam had once thought was well deserved was really just a step closer to democracy turning into anarchy. Every time someone insulted him or called him hurtful names, it was never his fault. Liam was never the problem. He was the solution. It is a lot to take in.

Amphitryon sighs deeply as he looks at the chaos around him. He does not want to chain Liam to the polis that had been nothing but inconsiderate towards him, but they need him. They don't deserve him, but they need him. They have always needed him even if they didn't realize it to begin with, but they need him now more than ever.

He refuses to be the one to anchor Liam down, so he decides to leave Liam to figure it out himself without any additional help. However before he walks away, he leaves Liam with one final phrase. "Welcome to Thebes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... That is all for now. Adieu, my dear.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Louis schemes, Harry kisses everyone, and Liam fights yet another beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months ago I lost (2) someone(s) very dear to me, so this is dedicated to them.
> 
> As for the tardiness of this chapter, I am very sorry. I experienced a technical difficulty wherein everything that I had written went bye-bye which hampered my work ethic for this story. But it's here now so yay.

**III**

 

Evil is a word that has always been associated with Louis. Even before he became the truly evil God he is now, he was seen as evil, the god with the least hope for their future and the future of humankind as a whole. It is part of the reason why he was given the dreary job of ruling over the Underworld instead of living with the rest of the Gods and Goddesses in beautiful Mount Olympus.

He wasn't always evil, though. There was a time before a dark chill enclosed his immortal heart, a joyous time before Louis’ euphoria was ripped from him. That all changed one day that was written out of the scriptures by the order of a higher power, the tragic day whose events could not have been prevented no matter what course of action he took, the fateful day that the Fates had not dared to warn him about in fear of the animosity he might unleash, the grim day that would haunt Lord Louis for the rest of his endless life.

 

 

Ξ κόσμος Ξ

 

 

The tall, brooding trees cover all that lie beneath them in a dark, ominous shadow including a figure futilely sneaking through the woods. No matter how quietly and cautiously he steps, the man he is hiding from will know of his presence. Unbeknownst to the precarious Harry, a smoke emerges from the brush and wraps around his waist. Before he realizes what is happening, he is lifted from the ground and carried off to the very man he had been attempting to avoid.

There is a reason he had been attempting to avoid the God of the Underworld, a reason for his not-so-stealthy sneaking. He knows that he failed. Two more years will be added to his already lengthy sentence, and there is nothing Harry can do about it. The weight of his sentence has increased. One day, Harry will no longer be able to bear the weight of the sentence that chains him to the God. If Louis’ war doesn't kill him first, the weight of the chains will.

Harry waves the smoke away from himself as soon as he is placed back onto the ground, crossing his arms and glaring at the God who is standing near a tree with two of his minions, cloaked in his usual dark robes.

“My delicate flower,” the God greets, sickeningly sweet, walking towards Harry and placing his hand on the beauty’s shoulder. “Why is it that the River Guardian has not yet agreed to join my side in the upcoming war?”

Breaking free of Louis’ grasp, Harry turns around and throws his hands in the air as he explains with a tinge of bitter resentment in his voice. “It wasn't my fault! Some kid playing hero came in and interrupted our negotiations. Nessus would have agreed if that Liam character hadn't fucked it up!”

Louis freezes, eyes suddenly wary. Harry is not aware of the reason for the God’s change in mood, but he decides to let Louis do the deep thinking. Harry walks past the two minions who are simply seated under the tree, speaking to each other about trivial issues and stops, glancing back at the God who holds his soul hostage.

“Would you repeat that?” Louis says harshly before feigning composure and speaking with a sense of false control, “lovely rose.”

“A hero-wannabe named Liam noticed our very minor altercation and took it upon himself to ‘save me’,” Harry explains again, watching his wording this time.

The God turns to the two oblivious minions, eyes slowly burning to a flame like colour. The two minions turn their attention to their master, eyes widening with fear of the God, before shifting their form into that of a vulnerable bug. The two are used to receiving Louis’ wrath, yet there is something about the man that makes him so terrifying even after years of knowing him. Perhaps it is the fact that he truly is as unstably perilous, if not more so, than he appears.

Harry knows him in a way that no one else alive that he is aware of does, yet the fear refuses to leave him when Louis is around. Knots always form in his stomach when Louis nears him, he tenses up right before the God can touch him and only relaxes once he is sure that he only has kind or lustrous thoughts.

“I am merely weeks away from commencing a war that will provide me with what I so rightfully deserve yet have been denied of for aeons, but right now, I am only seconds away from ending all three of your lives!” Harry’s head snaps up at his own inclusion, pink lip wobbling slightly at the pure rage and power in Louis’ voice. “Don't you think having the son of the man I plan on targeting directly alive could be detrimental to my plan, the plan which took me longer than any of you could imagine to perfect, the plan which I refuse to have desecrated because my two sycophants could not handle killing a fucking baby two decades ago!”

After years of working, living, and sleeping with Lord Louis, Harry has learned many valuable facts about the attractive God’s violent and seemingly uncontrollable temper. One of these is that eyes truly are windows to the soul and provide more information than anyone could give. The more closely Louis’ eyes resemble fire, the closer he is to engulfing the surrounding area in a fiery blaze of indignation. At the moment, his eyes are nearly indistinguishable from flames, uncannily resembling the dark torches that light the pathways of the Underworld.

So Harry rushes to him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck and pressing their lips together. The furious God’s flaming eyes widen before closing as he wraps his own arms around Harry’s waist and kisses back. Louis can feel the tension escape his body as he runs his hands up and down Harry’s sides, easily taking control of the kiss.

He can hardly believe that passionate kissing prevented Louis from quite literally blowing up, but it should be of no surprises to Harry. Love does no real good. It is lust that holds all true power, and Louis is quite madly in lust with the beautiful owner of the soul he expropriated. The emotion is truly a force to be reckoned with. Lust is a dangerous game, but Harry knows how to play his cards.

Without ending their kiss, Lord Louis snaps for his chariot to take them back to the land he was forced to call home. The dark wasteland that he forced Harry to call home as well.

The two minions are doing nothing but silently staring in awe at Harry’s ability to calm the vengeful God, but when one finally manages to mumble a disgusted comment, Harry glares at them. Granted, Louis had just decided that Harry’s ass was too magnetic to resist, but Harry quite possibly saved all three of them. They should be praising Harry, not ridiculing him.

In what feels like no time, a woosh of air comes over them along with the strong clop of horse hooves on the ground. Harry opens his eyes to see four horses, as pitch black in colour as Louis' heart is, attached to a grand chariot. The horses grunt and toss their sleek black manes, waiting for the God. The horses need not wait very long, for Louis enters his chariot with Harry still attached to his arm.

As the horses race off towards the dark, unwelcoming depths of the Underworld, leaving behind two baffled figures, Harry ponders the profound meaning of love and wonders if it, in its truest form, really exists. In this moment, hands tangled in Louis' hair, the only thing that Harry knows for sure is lust, the only thing he's known for the entirety of his life is lust. Ben was in lust with him, Louis is in lust with him, but Liam.... Liam is different. Liam seems to be absolutely enraptured by him. He's not in lust with Harry, but he's not in love either. All Harry knows is that Liam is something Harry's never had before, but he doesn't want to lose him. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

 

  
Ξ κόσμος Ξ

 

  
Harry is desperately moaning and gasping for breath when Louis whispers the demand into his curls. At first, he is far too caught up in the pleasure to comprehend the request, but after a few moments of coming down, head on Louis' chest, everything said by the God comes back and he is able to understand. His fingers pause their circular motions on the god's chest momentarily when he realizes what he has been forced to do. They resume their movements once Harry takes a deep breath and closes his eyes ignoring the issue for the moment in hopes that it will go away even though the chances of that happening are zero to none.

He would much rather sleep on the chest of the hot god who was just recently inside of him than think about the fact that in the morning, he will be sending the only man who has ever showed genuine interest in him to his death.

When Harry wakes up, Louis is standing above the bed, ready to put his villainous plan into action. Taking hold of Louis’s hand, Harry allows the god to pull him to his feet, but puts his hand on Louis’ chest to prevent crashing into his body when Louis pulls him closer than expected. Harry looks up at Louis with wide eyes, curious yet terrified of what the god is planning on saying.

“When you have completed your task, come to me,” he whispers despite the lack of other people in the room.

If anyone knew who Harry really was, who he worked for, who he made love with in the dark of night, they would abhor him. If any one person in this crowd of countless people knew what Harry was hiding, his life could very well be over. Either that or he could be doomed to spend the rest of his living and dying days in the Underworld with a God who would kill him to take Olympus from the mighty hands of Zeus. It’s essentially one and the same.

Searching for Liam in this horde is nearly impossible. There are far too many people for it to be plausible. The only reason Harry manages to spot Liam is dumb luck. Someone bumped into him, sending Harry in a different direction and inadvertently causing the boy to trip over a vase sitting outside of a shop. The shop owner helps him up, giving Harry’s side a firm pat that has Harry cringing in pain of the hand shaped bruises decorating his skin, and over the man’s shoulder, Harry sees him.

In the midst of the crowd, Liam is being his heroic self, helping an older woman navigate the swarm of people. He has a smile on his face as the woman talks to him, the kind of smile that only comes from genuine happiness, the kind of smile that cannot be manufactured, the kind of smile that Louis never smiles, the kind of smile that Harry hasn't smiled in far too long.

“Liam!” Harry exclaims as he runs to the strong man and jumps into his arms, wrapping his legs around Liam’s waist and connecting their lips happily.

Liam, finally beginning to understand the whole kissing concept, kisses back, holding onto Harry tightly so that the beauty doesn't fall. Harry ends the kiss, hands still bracing Liam’s face, and smiles down at him. He rubs his thumb against the scruffy skin of Liam’s cheek, and bites his lip to keep from smiling too largely. The smile falls from his face immediately when he remembers what his task is. He doesn't want to complete it, but he has no doubt in his mind that Louis would never grant him his freedom if Harry disregarded his demand.

“Liam, thank Olympus above I found you! I fear you're the only one who can help,” Harry says in a much more concerned tone, sliding down from Liam’s arms. “Two children were playing around just outside of the polis when the mountain collapsed. You must help them!”

Worry taints the joy that had previously been in Liam’s eyes when Harry relays the news. “A rockslide?” Harry nods, holding onto both of Liam’s hands. “This is great!”

“Excuse me?” Harry asks, baffled by Liam’s excited reaction.

A whistle comes from Liam’s mouth instead of explanation and only moments afterwards, Pegasus is standing beside them. Harry begins to object to riding on the back of the horse who has an obvious distaste for Harry, but Liam has lifted him onto the flying horse and mounted Pegasus as well without listening to Harry's complaints. When Pegasus takes off, Harry screams, taking hold of the horse’s mane and squeezing his eyes closed as tightly as possible. Liam wraps his arm around Harry, keeping their bodies pressed together.

The wind whips Harry’s hair around, but Liam avoids the tiny stinging sensations by pressing his face into Harry’s soft curls, breathing in Harry’s fresh floral scent. Liam smiles at the welcoming scent, laughing softly at the overly dramatic screams Harry is letting out. Harry knows that he is in no real danger, especially with Liam’s strong arms wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling, but heights have never settled well with him.

Once they finally land, Liam jumps off of Pegasus, hand sliding down Harry’s waist and thigh as he stands on the rocky terrain. Harry closes his eyes for a moment, collecting himself enough to hold onto Liam’s steady hand to dismount the winged horse that purposefully made the ride turbulent. A cry for help prevents Liam from leaning down to give Harry a kiss, so Liam settles for kissing Harry's hand and promising to return to Harry.

Harry leaves as soon as Liam goes to help the children, waiting only long enough to make sure that Liam is entirely occupied by the boulder that traps them, sizing it up to make sure that he will be able to lift it. Harry knows that he can. Once Liam begins to lift, he ascends the rock staircase, freezing upon seeing someone.

The God is sitting in a throne of stone, looking over the scene below with a calm, powerful fire in his eyes. There is a certain aura of power that surrounds him that makes nearing him a fearsome task, but Harry knows that Louis would not harm him intentionally. Harry takes a deep breath before approaching the dominant God, swaying his hips with each step he takes. Placing his hands on Louis’ shoulders, Harry straddles him, an all too familiar position for the duo.

Louis places his hands on Harry's waist, the soreness of his bruises creating a somehow comforting feeling. Harry doesn't understand himself, but he chooses not to dwell.

“Don't do this,” Harry whispers into the God’s ear, breath hot against Louis’ skin. “Let us instead go back to bed and have some real fun.”

By the pause and slight hitch of his breath, Harry can tell that the God is considering the possibility. Leaving to “have fun” with Harry back in their bed, just trusting the beast to do its job. However, he knows that it would be too unprofessional. Louis didn't get this far by being careless and going off with every goddess who asked. There is a grand scheme, and Louis must do everything in his power to keep Liam from derailing it even if it means forcing Harry to wait.

“Tempting,” Louis says, running his hand down Harry’s back and making Harry arch his back and open his mouth in preparation for a moan that never comes. “But in order to enjoy life’s… pleasures,” he continues, lightly bucking his hips up into Harry’s ass to prove just how tempted he is. “One must endure its inconveniences.”

Harry lets his head hang back down, breathing heavily while staring Louis in the eye. He pushes his plush bottom lip out to form a pout and tempt Louis further. The God lets his gaze fall down to the beauty’s mouth, observing just how pink and ready to be bitten his lips are. With Harry seated on his lap, there is no point in pretending that he is unaffected by his teasing, so he looks up at Harry and squeezes the boy’s already bruised waist.

Realizing that Louis is not going to accept his invitation, Harry sighs and turns so that he's seated across the god’s lap. From this position, he can see Liam jumping back in surprise of the beast in front of him. Louis, too, watches as Liam scrambles for his sword, nearly dropping it in his frantic rush to defend the well being of his home city and its people, some of whom were not always very kind to him. All is forgotten, even if not forgiven, now as Liam dodges an attack by the creature before him, struggling to figure out a way to defeat the brute.

The sound of two beings climbing the stone staircase earns both the god and the mortal’s attention, turning their heads to see who it is. The Lord of the Dead’s two minions pop up from the staircase, arguing uselessly with each other.

“I must admit that I am impressed with the two of you. You have exceeded my expectations.” Harry turns his head to glance at the God. “And as for my lovely leading lady…” Louis begins, kissing down Harry’s neck sensually. Harry gasps quietly, allowing his head to fall back to give easier access to his neck. “You were flawless, darling,” he says, pressing a final kiss to Harry’s sternum.

Harry’s breath shakes as he sits upright again, attempting to shift his attention to the man fighting in the gorge. Just as Harry spots the beast, Liam takes his sword and slices the beast’s neck, making its head tumble to the ground, scaring many of the spectators. A wretched stench fills the air around them, presumably coming from the giant carcass. Both Harry and Louis are too far from the activity below to smell it, but the expressions on the people’s faces give it away almost too easily.

A wave of joy washes over Harry as he realizes that Liam defeated the beast, but it is soon followed by an even larger wave of fear when he thinks of the God’s reaction. Much to Harry’s surprise, Louis is not fuming. His eyes are not flamed up with rage. He is calm, too calm.

Louis looks over to his two minions. One is scampering around, chattering about how much trouble they are going to be in while the other sits, worrying in a much less obvious way. The God only laughs lightly, moving his head to Harry’s neck and wetly kissing the soft skin there. Harry moans meekly at the feeling, wondering how he could be so calm at a time like this. He doesn't seems at all phased by the fact that Liam just defeated his beast.

“Relax, little lilac,” the Lord of all creatures Dead pacifies against Harry's soft skin, one hand innocently enough resting on the small of his back while the other plays with the fabric hiding the inner part of Harry’s upper thigh. “Sometimes the end is more malleable than it seems.”

A scream from the crowd startles the god, not that he would ever admit that, away from Harry’s neck. His attention lands on the stirring monster and a horrified hero. His goat-like companion shoves the demigod’s sword into his hands and runs away from the beast like the rest of the crowd below. From the beast’s neck sprout three other appendages that resemble heads much to the dismay of Liam.

“Behold the Lernæan Hydra! Now the real battle may commence.”

Confident that his beast will successfully defeat the hero-in-training who is also happens to be after Harry's heart, Lord Louis pulls a cigarette out of thin air and lights it using a flame that flickers just above his index finger. Perhaps sitting back in his makeshift throne, rubbing his beautiful servant’s thigh, and having a smoke is being a bit too comfortable with his odds, but he deserves a break. After all, recruiting the help of a brute was no easy task.

Two beautiful green eyes look at Louis through the grey veil that separates them, questioning everything the God has done to get to where he is. The beauty’s pink lips fall open slightly, just enough for Lord Louis to share his tainted breath. As Harry inhales, the shared smoke inebriates his mind with a psychedelic reality filled with a vibrant array of prismatic polychromes. It's a fugacious glimpse of an ineffable insouciance, an evangelical epiphany where colour is conflated into summery serendipity.

Louis’ hand cups Harry’s face tenderly, studying the distant look on his face before pressing their lips together. Harry moans into the kiss, turning to adjust the angle at which their lips connect into a more comfortable one. It’s fairly messy and rushed because neither of them are in their right states of mind, but neither particularly care. Louis is far too high on his horse to care that their kiss is imperfect, and Harry is simply searching for reassurance, praying to any a God or Goddess that will listen for Liam to be okay. Two very different thoughts, two very different people crashing together in one kiss.

A grunt followed quickly by a deafening shriek end the kiss. Louis grins smugly and places his cigarette back between his lips as Harry walks to the ledge to observe. Of course, the Lord of the Dead will be the one to console Harry over the death of his close friend, the passing of the man who was not quite Harry’s boyfriend.

Harry gasps, hands clasped over his mouth, and watches the scene unfold below. Louis can only hear the crowd burst into cheers and applause, shocking the God and making him rush to Harry’s side.

Below, the beast lays conquered on the ground and Liam stands above, pulling his sword from the beast’s heart. The defeated monster lets out one final sad noise that the crowd quickly overpowers with their applause. Louis’ cigarette burns to ash instantaneously. Rage fills his body and sets whatever mangled soul that the god may have aflame. All he can see is red from the flames that consume his heart.

Liam breathes heavily, sweat drenching his forehead and muscles still flexed from battle. Louis knows that Harry finds him extremely attractive at this moment, but when he turns to the boy, he discovers that Harry has vanished, left without a trace. If the God didn't know exactly where Harry was headed, he would search for him.

Sure enough, Harry comes running towards the hero, seizing his face and forcing a happily recieved kiss on the man. The crowd cheers even more as Liam picks Harry up and spins them as they kiss. Louis scowls at the act, unintentionally burning the ground around him to a blackened state of being.

“My magnate of misery, what shall we do to end him now?” His two minions ask cautiously, attempting not to infuriate the God anymore than he already is.

Lord Louis responds with a growl, “you two useless creatures should have killed him when he was an infant.” They both wince at his furious tone. “But since you failed to do that and my sister’s monster was a catastrophe, I will be forced to take desperate measures. He must not be alive when I beleager Olympus.”

 

 

Ξ κόσμος Ξ

 

 

By the time Louis’ chariot arrives, Liam’s goat-friend has pried Liam and Harry away from each other, forcing their locked lips apart. Louis watched the whole time as Liam brushed Harry’s hair out of his face and kissed him one final time, as Harry whispered something into Liam’s ear, as Liam nodded open-mouthed at Harry all the while being hauled onto Pegasus and flying off. Harry met back up with Louis as soon as Liam was out of sight.

No words are spoken even during the ride back to the Underworld. The silence is likely due to the unaddressed tension in the air, but Harry can tell that Louis is still fuming from his loss, so he keeps his head down, careful to avoid eye contact. No matter how long Harry is stuck with him, how close they become, Harry will always fear him. Especially when he is angry.

As soon as they enter their shared room, Harry drops to his knees before the obviously pissed God, looking up at him coyly. The God’s dark robe drops to the ground once he comprehends the situation at hand, thoughts finally switching from dark ploys of murder to receiving fellatio. Louis’ hands tangle Harry's hair as the beautiful mortal goddess wraps his hands around the God’s large cock and gives the tip a small kitten lick, teasing the God just enough to earn a moan to encourage Harry to take in more.

The God knows that Harry can take more. Harry has choked on Louis’ cock plenty of times in the past and even learned how to take almost all of the God’s length into his mouth. Harry is most definitely no stranger to this position.

Wrapping his lips around the head of Louis’ dick, Harry closes his eyes and hums at the taste. Louis bucks his hips, causing more of his length to slip into Harry’s mouth, as the vibrations travel up his spine and send shocks through his nerves. Harry doesn't protest, in fact he takes even more in, inhaling sharply through his nose when it hits the back of his throat instead of choking.

Louis’ grip on Harry's hair tightens as warning to Harry that the God will be taking control of the pace. Harry closes his eyes and concentrates on running his tongue over the vein on the underside of Louis’ cock which makes the Lord of the Dead moan and thrust back into Harry's mouth. Harry chokes in surprise as Louis’ dick hits the back of his throat, but he manages to control his gag reflex very soon afterwards.

“Look at you. Already so wrecked,” Louis moans, continuing to fuck Harry's throat. “So pretty even when you're gagging on my cock.”

Harry only whines from around Louis, lips red, mouth growing sore, but he refuses to stop until Louis has come. So Harry lets most of Louis’ cock sit in his mouth while he uses his hands to messily jerk off the part of Louis’ dick that won't fit into his mouth. Louis groans, reaching down to touch Harry's bottom lip with his thumb. Harry looks up at him inquisitively, eyes glassy and filled with tears. It's Harry’s distant gaze, so ruined and willing to do whatever the God says, that brings Louis to the apex of his pleasure.

This moment, when Harry is so fucked-out that he wouldn't be able to speak even if Louis’ cock was not fucking his throat, is the only time that Harry is ever willing to do what Louis asks of him without incentive or threats. This moment, when Harry is so lithe that he would fall to the floor without Louis, is when Louis feels most powerful.

That feeling of power is what makes Louis come in Harry's mouth, groaning and cursing as he grips Harry's hair and keeps Harry from pulling away, not that he would to begin with. Harry stays put, lips stretched obscenely around Louis’ cock as it pumps warm liquid into his mouth. Refusing to budge until every last drop is in his mouth or on his lips, Harry leans his head back and opens his mouth more, letting the white liquid land on his pink tongue. Louis curses at the sight, breathing heavily as the last of his come drips down Harry's chin. He doesn't dare look away from the gorgeous boy, fearing that he might miss something.

The goddess opens his eyes, looking deeply into Louis’ blue fire, before he closes his mouth and swallows like Louis’ come is the best thing he has ever tasted. Louis groans again, sitting down on the bed and smiling tauntingly while he waits for Harry to join him.

“A good blowjob does not ensure the safety of your boyfriend,” Louis informs him whilst Harry straddles him drowsily. “I'm still going to kill him. Even if I have to do it with my bare hands.”

Harry, apparently having not swallowed every bit of come, spits the rest in Louis’ face, making the God close his eyes and grimace to avoid getting some of his own come in his eyes. When he wipes his face clean, Harry is glaring at him as if he expected to get Liam off the hook with the pure power and excellence of his mouth.

“Well then what does it ensure?”

Instead of answering Harry’s inquiry, Louis grabs the boy’s waist and flips him over so that Harry is beneath him. Harry lies on the bed with his legs spread, watching as Louis moves down Harry's body. Louis lifts Harry's legs over his own shoulders, kissing up Harry's inner thighs until he reaches the beautiful goddess’ ass. He presses a kiss to Harry's pink hole, earning a quick gasp from Harry as he squeezes his thighs around Louis’ head. Rubbing his hands up and down Harry's ass and thighs to calm him down, Louis waits for Harry to relax his muscles.

Once Harry calms enough, Louis licks a wet stripe over the boy’s hole, feeling him clench under his tongue. Harry screams out the God’s name loudly enough for any living or most probably dead soul in the Underworld to hear when Louis shoves his tongue into Harry's hole, spreading the boy's cheeks with his hands. He continues fucking Harry with his tongue, revelling in the whimpers and moans Harry lets out. Harry tries to move back to get more of Louis’ tongue inside of him, but just when he thinks he has gotten the rhythm down, Louis pulls away and admires how fucked out and frantic Harry looks.

“You and Liam have… some sort of relationship. Perhaps you aren't intimate, but you know him more than I. What would you have me do if you wanted to dispose of him?” Louis questions.

Panting heavily, Harry looks Lord Louis in the eyes and delivers his answer. “Don't underestimate him.”

Louis makes a mental note of Harry's advice before flatly licking Harry's hole, ignoring the “thank fuck,” that Harry moans quietly, grasping his chiton desperately. Louis removes one hand from Harry's asscheek and moves it to the boy's mouth, shoving four of his fingers into Harry's wet, waiting mouth. His thumb rubs Harry's bottom lip gently as if he is rewarding Harry for being good and sucking on his fingers without him even having to tell him to.

Harry is all too eager to suck on Louis' fingers, licking between each finger and moaning happily as he sucks. Having just sucked Louis’ cock, Louis had thought that Harry would be too tired to truly suck on his fingers, but Harry acts like he didn't just have a large cock down his throat as he gets Louis’ fingers wet. When Louis deems his fingers wet enough, he pulls them out of Harry's sore mouth and shoves his first finger in next to his tongue with no warning. Harry moans loudly and arches his back, pleading helplessly for Louis to give him more, more, more. Louis chooses not to listen to Harry's plea, only thrust his finger in and out with his tongue.

Even as he adds a second finger, Louis doesn't stop licking Harry's hole. Harry’ thighs are shaking, he's hard against his stomach, so ready to release. He's not sure if he can hold back any longer, but suddenly everything changes. Suddenly Louis adds a third finger, adding to the stretch in that wonderful way that Harry loves. Suddenly Louis’ fingers angle so perfectly. Suddenly Louis hits Harry's spot, causing Harry to scream out and arch his back even more than it already was.

The only thing that goes through Harry's mind at that moment is how much he needs Louis to hit that spot again, how he might cry if Louis doesn't rub his prostate the way Louis knows that he loves. Louis, however, is not doing either. He is letting his fingers sit there unmoving as his other hand strokes Harry's cheek.

Unable to find his words, Harry only squeaks needily and clenches around Louis’ fingers to give him the hint. Louis chuckles, pleased by Harry's reaction, and moves Harry's chiton back out of the way.

In the moment when Louis thrusts his fingers into Harry's hole, hitting Harry's prostate dead on, Harry is sure that the Muses surround him and play a celestial melody. When Louis rubs Harry's spot with his fingers and whispers dirty compliments into Harry's thighs, kissing the most sensitive part of them, Harry thinks he has entered the beautiful land of Olympus itself. Louis talks him through it, telling him that he tastes better than ambrosia and that he's more beautiful than Aphrodite when he orgasms.

Truth be told, Harry doesn't even realize that he has come until Louis pulls his fingers out of Harry's hole, making Harry whine and clench around nothing. It's then that he feels how his wet and sticky chiton is clinging to his stomach.

Louis wipes his mouth and fingers off on Harry's ruined chiton despite Harry's futile attempt at stopping him from doing so. Harry is too drowsy from his orgasm to actually put any effort into saving his chiton. The God will buy Harry a new one anyways. He always does. Regardless of what Louis says and how he acts, he cares about Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was for you, Hercules. Please come back to Netflix soon. 
> 
> And um, please, grow your hair back out, Harry. The loss of so many inches of your hair crushed my heart, soul, and any inspiration that I had to write. It's a wonder this chapter was ever completed.
> 
> Once again, countless apologies for the wait. Xx


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spends more time with Liam, Liam struggles to keep his feelings for Harry casual, and Louis comes up with a more effective plan for success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck you, mimi & milky
> 
> The spacing is different because I felt like it was too cramped. That's just me tho

When it comes to matters of the heart, Harry does not have the best history. He's been cautious as to who he gives his heart to ever since Ben broke it, never trusting, never loving. Harry knows that he should not live in the past, but it's hard not to when his future looks so dark. Harry is terrified, but he will never admit it.

 

Harry doesn't love Louis. It would be impossible for him to. Louis is too closed-off, too secretive, too dangerous.

 

Harry knows nothing about him except for the fact that he is a powerful God who wants to take over Olympus because Zeus stuck him with the worst possible job. He does know that Louis has a deeply rooted hatred for the King of the Gods, an animosity deeper than Poseidon’s seas. Louis has never explained why, other than that fact, he hates Zeus and commands Harry to never pray to him. Harry knows that there must be an underlying reason, but Louis refuses to speak of it.

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

Sighing deeply, Harry lies on his side to face the God beside him instead of staring upward like he had been before. Louis doesn't move, simply keeps his arm around Harry's shoulders, rubbing Harry’s arm casually.

 

“Louis,” Harry begins quietly. “What were your former relationships like?"

 

“I've been around for aeons, darling daffodil. I don't remember every sexual encounter I’ve had in that time,” is Louis’ answer.

 

Harry frowns. “No, no, I mean… Have you ever been in love?”

 

Silence follows the question, and for a moment, Harry thinks that Louis has fallen asleep. From the way that Louis’ eyes remain open, Harry assumes that he is thinking and not sleeping. Harry doesn't understand what he would need to think about. In his experience, being in love is an experience that is impossible to forget. Harry wouldn't need to think about it before he said yes. He knows that he was in love, even if Ben didn't share his passion.

 

Nevertheless, Louis lies there, hand no longer rubbing Harry's arm, just thinking. Perhaps he is wondering if a relationship he had with someone was love or not. Perhaps he has been in love multiple times and is trying to choose one specific instance. There are countless possibilities, but Harry wants to know the truth. He is tired of guessing, and the anticipation is killing him.

 

“No.”

 

Harry blinks at Lord Louis, surprised and incredibly disillusioned. To think that Louis is an ancient God who has never been in love is utterly baffling.

 

Has he been so consumed by his hatred for Zeus that he never allowed himself to fall in love? Was everyone who he could have possibly fallen in love with afraid of him? How is it possible that in less than seventeen years, Harry was able to fall in love, but in aeons, Louis has not? Those are the questions that fill Harry's mind, but before he can ask a single one, Louis begins to speak.

 

“Of course I've been in love,” Louis confesses with a humourless chuckle. “Everyone falls in love. Even pessimistic gods who everyone assumes doesn't have a heart simply because they choose to be realistic find someone who makes them open their dark heart.”

 

“What were they like?” Harry asks, captivated.

 

The expression on Louis’ face is one that Harry has never seen on him before. Louis looks fondly nostalgic, wistful. Harry wouldn't believe it if he didn't see it himself. Louis almost looks happy. He even has a smile on his face. It isn't wide, no teeth are visible, but it is there. His smile makes Harry smile as well, hiding his grin with his hand as he watches the blue of Louis’ eyes sparkle.

 

“She was beautiful. The most beautiful goddess I had ever seen. I knew I needed her the moment I laid eyes on her in the middle of that field.” Louis laughs lightly, drawing what feel like hearts onto the skin of Harry's arm with his finger. “It wasn't perfect at first, but it got better. She was the optimist to my pessimist, the light to my dark, the warmth to my cold soul. She made me believe that things could actually get better. She made me a better God.”

 

Cautiously, voice timid and small, Harry asks a question that he knows will ruin the pure moment. “What happened to her?”

 

Louis’ face becomes austere, blue turning to a deep red that resembles the colour of blood more than his usual fire. Harry is suddenly unsure if he wants to hear the answer to his question.

 

“She was taken from me.”

 

Harry doesn't have the courage to ask what he means by that. His curiosity is not fully quenched, but he is afraid of what might have happened to this girl that Lord Louis fell in love with. He decides against asking him to go into detail, noticing the deadly glint in his eyes. Harry doesn't think he's ready to hear what happened to Louis’ first love, his true love. He doesn't think he's ready to hear what turned Louis into the cruel capricious God he is now.

 

Instead, Harry thinks of his own former love. He wonders if Ben is still with the girl he left Harry for. He wonders if Ben is happy. He wonders if saving his life was the right thing to do. Would Ben have been better off in the Underworld. Harry knows he would be better off out of the Underworld, but he doesn't know if he would have met Liam without Louis.

 

“Do you believe we’ll find love again?” Harry asks, tracing random patterns up and down Louis’ chest.

 

“Honestly, Harry, I don't believe you were ever really in love with him.” Harry looks up at him for an explanation, completely baffled by his assumption. “I think you were in love with the moments you had with Ben, not Ben himself.”

 

His first instinct is to defend his former love, eyebrows furrowed and body tense, but the God’s words ring in his head. He can't bring himself to fight what Louis said. Still, Harry refuses to admit any truth in the God’s words because if he did, he wouldn't just be admitting that he and Ben were never in love. He would be admitting to never having been in love before. He would be admitting that this God, this immortal who owns his soul, knows something about him. He would be admitting that the Lord who Harry has been attempting to keep at arm’s length knows more about Harry than even Harry does.

 

Instead, Harry sits up, wrapping his arms around himself. He doesn't want to let Louis in. The fact that Louis owns Harry’s soul does not mean that Louis is entitled to Harry’s heart. Harry has shared everything with this God for years now; he deserves to at least have his own feelings to himself.

 

“I…” Harry begins, fastening his chiton. “I have somewhere to be.”

 

The God sits up as well, clearing his throat and refusing to make eye contact with Harry. “Yes, I have… A meeting. The Fates should be here any minute now.”

 

With that, Louis leaves and Harry watches him go, wondering what his meeting is about and if he even has one. Harry knows that things got suddenly awkward, and he knows that it was mostly his fault, but Louis should not have tried to pry. Then again, it was Harry who asked about Louis’ love life in the first place. Nevertheless, Louis should not have tried to decide whether or not Harry had been in love before.

 

Harry needs to get his mind off of this. He has more important things to worry about, such as how he’ll manage to arrive at his destination without the help of the Lord Louis and how he’ll avoid talking about his past and the Lord of the Dead.

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

While Harry wanders around searching for Liam, he wonders if perhaps Liam has forgotten about their date. When Harry asked Liam if he wanted to go on a date with him, Liam was almost too excited and could not even form comprehensive words. Granted Liam had just defeated the Hydra-headed monster so he was bound to be exhausted, but Liam’s eyes lit up as soon as Harry asked. Harry had to take his feverish nodding as answer enough, so it wouldn't make sense that Liam forgot or decided against coming.

 

Just as Harry begins to contemplate going back to the Underworld and being inundated with questions from the God, Liam runs up to him, clothing slightly charred.

 

“I am so sorry that I'm late. There was a family trapped in a burning building,” he explains, dusting ash off of his clothing. “Not to mention getting away from Niall. He has helped me so much, but sometimes he just needs to trust my judgement.”

 

All Harry can do is smile widely. Sometimes he forgets how valiant of a hero Liam is. Harry surely doesn't deserve him. Harry is a coward, and Liam is not. Harry has dark secrets that could jeopardize their relationship, and Liam, to the extent of Harry’s knowledge, does not. Liam is this wonderful man who could potentially have a wonderful life, and Harry has already fucked his own life up so badly that he doesn't think he will ever be able to amend it.

 

There are plenty of others, better than Harry, who would love to date Liam, yet Liam chose him. Plenty of others who could be good for Liam, yet Liam chose a toxic person to fall for. Harry will never be able to comprehend the reasons behind Liam’s actions, but he is grateful for them nonetheless.

 

“So did you have anything planned?” Liam asks, pulling Harry from his daze.

 

“I- no,” Harry admits. “I don't know what there is to do. I don't really get out much.”

 

He doesn't tell Liam that the reason he doesn't get out much is because the God who owns his soul often refuses to allow Harry out of the Underworld. Liam doesn't need to know about that yet. Harry has no idea what he will do if Louis decides to use him to get to Liam, but he doubts that will happen.

 

“I have an idea,” Liam tells him, grabbing his hand.

 

Liam doesn't immediately explain his plans to Harry. They first walk around the polis hand in hand, talking about their childhoods. They find comfort in the fact that they were both shunned as children by others and considered anomalies. Harry explains how people, including his family, refused to accept his and his boyfriend’s love. Liam discusses how everyone was so threatened by his great strength that they would avoid him and spread such horrible rumours that no children wanted to befriend him.

 

By the time they finish recalling the details of their childhoods, they have already arrived at the theatre. As Liam smiles at him, eyes sparkling, Harry realizes that they aren't as different as he had originally thought. Despite being on different sides of this war, which Liam has yet to discover, they have so much in common.

 

“It must be great to know that you were never a freak but rather a God. I mean, you're a hero now.”

 

“Yes, I suppose,” Liam agrees. “But now I have to earn my place in Olympus by proving myself a true hero. I don't know how to do that.”

 

Harry smiles up at Liam, grabbing one of Liam’s hands with both of his. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. You’ll make it to Olympus one day, but when you do, promise that you won't forget me.”

 

Liam kisses Harry's cheek affectionately before telling the mortal, “I could never forget you. I can't even get you out of my head; how could I possibly forget you?”

 

Harry grins and presses their lips together in response. He can hardly kiss Liam because of how widely he is grinning, so it is more affectionate face pressing together than kissing. Harry tries to compare this to when he and Ben would kiss, but it feels entirely different. Harry is with Liam because he wants to be, not because he feels as if he has no one else. Perhaps Louis was right about Ben. Their love, compared to whatever this is between Harry and Liam, was a pathetic and weak fling, a brief attraction that Harry believed to be more.

 

For a brief moment, Harry forgets that they are standing outside of a theatre, a theatre that Harry assumes they are supposed to go into. He's too wrapped up in kissing Liam and proving to Liam that he is worthy of his love. Harry is too consumed by stroking Liam’s bearded face and not losing his balance from his position on his tiptoes. Harry is too enveloped by his infatuation with Liam.

 

They are made aware of the fact that the play is about to begin by a man who works at the theatre. He taps on Liam’s shoulder wordlessly before walking back to his post. Liam ends their kiss as soon as the man’s hand makes contact with his shoulder. Liam looks rather flushed, and Harry isn't sure if it's because they were kissing or because they got caught. Either way, Harry begins to laugh, covering his mouth with his hands before hiding his face in Liam’s chest.

 

Bewildered by Harry’s giggling, Liam does the only thing he can think of and laughs along. Pretty soon they're both laughing at seemingly nothing. Harry is hanging onto Liam’s arm and laughing into his chest while Liam laughs along in his joyous confusion.

 

“Why is it that everytime I’m with you, I always end up getting in trouble?” Liam asks playfully.

 

Harry knows the question is innocent and asked purely for the means of humour, but it still shocks Harry immensely. It takes Harry a minute to compose himself and wrap his mind around the fact that Liam has only noticed a trend and has not analyzed it yet. Liam trusts him. He could never on his own conceive that Harry would betray him.

 

“I guess I'm just bad news,” Harry says, earning a laugh from Liam.

 

Still laughing, Liam comments, “then I suppose I'm doomed.”

 

The look in Liam’s eyes as he holds Harry's hands and stares into his eyes frightens Harry. Liam is looking at Harry as if the sun revolves around him, as if Harry is a magnet pulling Liam in with full prevail. He is looking at Harry in a way that no one else has never looked at him before. Harry doesn't know whether he should kiss Liam or pull away.

 

“We…” Harry stops himself and leans up to kiss Liam’s cheek. “We should probably watch the play,” he suggests with a small smile.

 

This is the most Harry has ever smiled in one day in a very long time. In fact, his cheeks are beginning to hurt. Harry isn't ignorant. He knows that Liam is the cause for his grinning. He knows that if he were in the Underworld with Louis, he would be scowling or pouting or some combination of the two. He is also fairly certain that if he were with Ben, he would not be feeling as carefree as he does now.

 

Harry keeps this in mind as they walk hand in hand through the arch with a very intricate design adorning it to where Liam, the Hero of Greece, has seats reserved. He considers what this could mean as he watches the chorus set the scene, but when Liam squeezes his hand, Harry forgets about everything but the play in front of him and the man seated beside him. All he can think about is the sheer joy he feels with Liam. It's past time for Harry to acknowledge how happy Liam truly makes him.

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

Liam smiles at Harry as they walk down the olive grove, smile reaching his eyes and making them crinkle at the sides. It's one of his genuine smiles that Harry has grown to be quite fond of. Just as Harry has grown fond of the feeling of Liam's hand holding his own and every other feeling regarding Liam.

 

“That was fun,” Liam states, smiling over at Harry.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “I had a great time.”

 

Harry wants to tell Liam that they should do it again tomorrow, but for some indescribable reason, he feels nervous. He has no idea why he feels this way. He wasn't nearly this nervous when he asked Liam out before. He didn't feel this odd fluttering in his stomach. He didn't avoid looking Liam in the eyes by staring at a rose like he is doing now. He can't comprehend why this would be happening now.

 

“Do you want to meet up again tomorrow? Say, just before sunset?” Liam proposes finally.

 

“I'll be watching the clepsydra eagerly,” Harry says, cursing himself immediately after for saying something so idiotic.

 

There is something wrong with him. First the nerves and now the inability to control what comes out of his mouth. Harry needs rest. He needs to sleep off this moment of stupidity.

 

Fortunately Liam seems so enamoured by Harry that he doesn't even realize how idiotic the mortal sounded. Harry can see just how quickly Liam let his feelings for Harry overtake him, but Harry will be damned if he does the same. Quite literally. As beneficial as Liam’s blindness caused by his feelings for Harry can be for him, Harry does feel bad. He feels as if he's deceiving the son of Zeus with lies of omission.

 

“It's already dark out,” Liam points out as if Harry hadn't noticed the lack of light before this point in time. “You could always spend the night here with me?”

 

Harry shakes his head, smiling as he removes Liam’s hands from his waist. Liam’s own smile drops as Harry does this, feeling of rejection bubbling up in his chest although Harry has not yet given his explanation. Then again, Harry doesn't have an explanation that is fit for Liam to hear.

 

“I'd love to, but I cannot. I have to return home,” Harry tells him, holding one of Liam’s hands with both of his own hands. “Perhaps next time.”

 

Liam still looks disappointed, not because he lost the chance to sleep with Harry but because he lost the chance to spend more time with him. That's all Liam seems to care about, spending time with Harry. It's a welcome change.

 

So Harry leans up to give Liam a quick peck. To Harry’s surprise, Liam wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a hug instead. Harry tenses up, staring off into the distance with wide eyes. He can't remember the last time he was ever hugged. It's such a foreign concept to him now that he forgets that he is supposed to hug Liam back.

 

Slightly awkwardly, Harry wraps his arms around Liam as well and attempts to relax into the hug. Maybe it's the fact that Liam could easily crush him in this position without even meaning to or just that Harry is not accustomed to receiving hugs, but Harry finds it incredibly difficult to let the tension in his body go. Liam pulls back before Harry can find it in himself to calm down and enjoy the hug like he is supposed to.

 

“You're not great at hugging,” Liam points out, hands holding Harry’s so that even though they are no longer hugging, they still have some sort of physical contact.

 

“And you're still not a good kisser,” Harry retaliates defensively. “What's your point?”

 

Liam only laughs, leaning down to capture Harry’s lips with his own. This, Harry can do. Harry is good at kissing. Kissing and fucking are all he has known for the last few years of his life now. He is bound to be good at it.

 

Harry kisses back, hands still held by Liam’s. His neck hurts slightly from craning it back while they kissed all day, but that's what Harry gets for dating a God; height difference. Harry is decently tall himself but every god he has ever come into contact with has been taller than him.

 

The thought of Gods reminds Harry that if he does not return home soon, Lord Louis will begin to search for him. Harry doesn't even want to know what the vengeful God would do if he saw Harry with the son of his arch enemy.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Harry promises, giving Liam a final kiss goodbye.

 

It feels as if they have said goodbye countless times tonight, but actually leaving seems to be the hardest thing. Harry figures that saying ‘see you later’ is easier than saying goodbye. That's not what it is after all. It isn't so much of a goodbye as it is a promise. A promise that they will meet up again. A promise that although there might be forces attempting to tear them apart, they will always find away to see each other again.

 

Liam only grins and nods in agreement. The look in his eyes is enough of a farewell for Harry. The look is brimming with adoration and fondness and what Harry can only describe as love.

 

Harry can only attempt to ignore the fluttering of his own heart as he watches Liam smile lovingly at him.

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

Harry is nearly asleep by the time Louis gets back, blinking tiredly when the God walks in. The God appears frustrated as he walks in, scowl on face. Harry is sleepy, but even he understands that something has come in between Louis and his goal. That is the only feasible reason for his anger. Nothing else upsets him this much.

 

“How was your meeting?” Harry asks, sitting up to get a better view.

 

“Wonderful,” the god spits out, flashing a deadly smile at Harry. “Just wonderful.”

 

The amount of sarcasm in Louis’ voice would be laughable if it wasn't so terrifying. When it comes to taking over Olympus, Lord Louis is rarely humorous. Harry knows this from experience. So instead of laughing, Harry just watches, on edge, as Louis walks towards him and takes a seat beside Harry, eyes burning a colour that is not quite red.

 

“As it turns out, this ‘Liam’ is more of a threat to me than I originally believed,” he explains before pushing Harry’s hair behind his ear, fingers brushing against Harry's skin in a gentle manner that greatly differs from his mood. “But I have a trick up my sleeve that will help me deliver a fatal blow.”

 

Harry leans away from the Lord of the Dead’s touch and looks away from his perilous smile. He can't stand to picture the death of the man who cares so greatly for him, the man who is so obviously falling in love with him. He can't stand the thought of Louis killing the only person in the world who genuinely cares about Harry.

 

Before Harry voices his opinion, he considers how Lord Louis will react. Because Harry’s hopes and Louis’ plans are mutually exclusive, Harry decides to keep his opinion hidden and instead comment on something that will not upset the God although the thought does upset Harry. Despite how hard Harry tries to steady his voice, the quiver is still there.

 

“But… He's a God. You can't kill a God, can you?”

 

The Lord of the Dead stops playing with Harry's hair and gives Harry a perplexed glare. “Don't even try to put me and that buffoon in the same category. He's no god, and despite what you two seem to think, he never will be.”

 

Harry’s confusion overpowers his fear and forces Harry to make eye contact with Louis. Nothing that Louis has said makes sense. Of course Liam is a god, he wouldn't be able to regain his godhood and join his father, Zeus, in Olympus if he was not a god. If he was not a god, he would not have the unearthly powers that Liam possesses.

 

“But his father is Zeus, right?” Harry questions.

 

“Yes,” Louis responds. “You think that Zeus stays loyal to his wife, Hera? Please, that lightning-loving lunatic couldn't keep his dick from wandering if his life depended on it.” After seeing that Harry is still lost, Louis continues to explain, “Liam is a demigod; a product of Zeus and some mortal woman. He's powerful, but he isn't immortal.”

 

Harry would normally reply, but he's still trying to process all that Lord Louis has just told him. It's a lot to take in. His boyfriend is a demigod, not a god. To Harry, it's no big deal. He's dating Liam because of his personality and looks, not because of his immortality or rather mortality. Harry likes him because of how much he cares for Harry. Nothing superficial.

 

The real issue lies in the fact that Liam believes that he is a full fledged God whose powers were stripped when he was kidnapped as a baby. Liam has been misinformed about himself, and he doesn't even know it. Harry wishes he knew what to do about it.

 

“If Liam is just a demigod, then why haven't you killed him yet?”

 

The question sounds more disrespectful than Harry had intended, but Louis is too distracted by the spring-like curls of Harry's hair. Because of this, Louis doesn't notice, and Harry doesn't bother adjusting his phrasing.

 

“I've been trying to take Liam down with violence when I should be focusing on something that is not his strong suit. That's where the trick up my sleeve comes in. Liam has been blessed with great physical strength, but he is also blinded by his affection for you,” the god explains, running his hands down the curves of Harry's waist. “You will continue spending time with him and discover everything that makes him tick, bleed, laugh, and cry. Then you will report all of your findings to me.”

 

Harry doesn't even make an attempt to change Lord Louis’ mind. To Louis, he is nothing more than another pawn in his game, just one more piece to move across the board. Harry is nothing to Louis or anyone else in the world more that matter. The only person who actually sees Harry as a human who deserves to be treated as so is Liam. It's a shame Liam is also the person that Harry has to help take down.

 

“Alright…” Harry acquiesces as Louis pulls their bodies closer.

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

The next time Harry meets up with Liam, Liam only takes Harry as far as to his garden. He tells Harry that he knows that it is an odd place for a date, but that he noticed Harry staring at some of the flowers yesterday when they spent time together. Harry flushes as red as the rose petals.

 

Much like last time, they spend the majority of the time talking. This time, they discuss their love lives and therefore lack of prior to meeting each other. Liam talks about his various attempts and fails to date, and Harry tells Liam about Ben.

 

Harry confesses a great deal about the incident with Ben, but he omits the part about Ben dying and Harry selling his soul to the God of the Underworld in order to get him back only to have him run off with some girl he barely knew. Harry does tell Liam that Ben left him for some random girl, but he forgoes mentioning the reason.

 

Liam wishes that he had more uplifting stories to add to the rather depressing conversation, but his lack of a love life was fairly pathetic. Even Harry seems to agree, giving Liam a pity kiss that is actually more playful than pitiful. Liam wraps his arms around Harry to capture him before attacking him with kisses all over his face. Harry squeaks and squirms his way free, standing just in front of Liam.

 

“You're so weird,” Harry teases, walking back into Liam’s spread arms. “This is why no one wanted to date you. Not because of your freakish strength.”

 

Pulling Harry into his lap, Liam laughs along and nuzzles his face into Harry's neck. “Well, now you're dating me, so it doesn't even matter anymore.”

 

Harry grins, placing his hands on both sides of Liam’s face and pulling Liam closer until they are kissing. It's nice, slow, unrushed. Harry would be lying if he said that Liam hadn't gotten any better. In fact, he's quite enjoying the kiss, but there is something very different about the way Liam is kissing him.

 

This kiss is somehow more intense, more passionate, than their others. It’s Liam, Harry is sure. Liam is holding him closer, kissing him deeper. Harry isn't even in control of the kiss like he always has been. This time, Liam has taken control in a way that Harry is okay with. This time, Liam is the dominant one, letting his hands feel the dips and curves of Harry’s body.

 

It’s different, this kiss, from any other that Harry has had.

 

Although Harry tends to fall for dominant men who like to control him, this type of dominance and control is different from all others that Harry has encountered. With this, Liam is not trying to control Harry, simply dominate the kiss. There's a distinct line between the two. A line that didn't exist with Ben, with Louis.

 

Still with all its differences, Harry ultimately knows what it will lead to. It will lead to the same thing the rest do, clothing falling to the ground, breaths intermingling as body parts do the same, an unanswered question for their relationship.

 

Harry unclips his chiton and then stands up, letting it fall to the ground of the garden. Liam watches in awe, gulping nervously at the sight of Harry bare in front of him. He stares at the curve of Harry’s waist and his thick thighs, and his little dick that hangs between. Liam looks as though he wants nothing more than to get his hands on Harry again but is absolutely terrified.

 

Liam can't resist getting a second good look at Harry, this time taking note of the handprints on Harry's hips and waist. For a moment Harry thinks he has been caught, but Liam’s naïveté seems to be on Harry's side.

 

“You still have bruises?” Liam questions softly. “I wish I had freed you from that monster sooner.”

 

“Well, I wouldn't call him a monster…”

 

“What would you call him then?”

 

Misunderstood. Rightfully embittered. Scorned by someone he once trusted. They are only a few of the ways that Harry would describe him. Despite his violent thirst for vengeance, Harry would not describe him as a monster. He doesn't know why he aches to defend the God who stole his soul.

 

Harry shakes his head, unable to defend or insult the Lord of the Dead.

 

When Harry returns to his seat on Liam’s lap, he places one hand on the demigod’s chest and another in his hair. He notices that Liam has suddenly become much more timid than he was when they were kissing fully clothed. Liam keeps his hands in one place on Harry's waist and keeps his body as still as possible. Harry quickly realizes that this is the strong man’s first time.

 

“You've never done this before, have you?” Harry asks, receiving a shrug from an obviously virgin Liam. “Well, that's okay… Me neither.”

 

At the last sentence, Liam perks up with a smile. His eyes light up at no longer being alone in that regard. Harry feels horrible but thinks he has made the right decision.

 

“We can figure it out together,” Liam proclaims, letting his hands slide down Harry's sides.

 

Harry smiles briefly in agreement before connecting their lips again and reaching down between them to palm at Liam’s cock overtop of the fabric preventing the demigod from being exposed. Liam’s eyes widen as he gasps into their kiss, tightening his grip on the chub of Harry's hip.

 

Still with a bit of timidity, Liam moves his hands even farther down Harry’s sides until he is cupping the beautiful mortal’s ass. Harry moans at that, licking into Liam’s mouth and squeezing the man’s hardening cock. Liam comes to realize that everything that he does will result in a reaction from Harry, and decides to be a bit bolder with his actions.

 

As Liam kneads Harry's bum, he lets his fingers feel at the crack and eventually Harry's entrance. Harry curses at that and slips his hand beneath Liam’s short chiton, taking his heavy cock in his hand.

 

Liam’s head leans back, ending their kiss, while he pants and takes in the feeling of Harry’s hand lightly pumping his cock. Harry only smirks and kisses up Liam’s neck, thumbing at the slit of Liam’s dick and causing the man to buck his hips as much as possible with Harry still on his lap.

 

Harry drops Liam’s dick, much to the displeasure of the demigod, and reaches down for the bottle that he knows is in his chiton somewhere. While Harry searches, Liam reaches up and experimentally twists one of Harry's nipples. The reaction he receives is not at all what he expected. Harry, having just grabbed the bottle, lurches upwards, pushing his chest into Liam’s hand.

 

“Shit,” Harry gasps out, back arched so that Liam must support his weight with a steady hand on the small of his back.

 

Before Liam has the opportunity to ask if he did anything wrong, Harry is wrapping his arms around the demigod’s neck and kissing his scruffy jaw. Liam doesn't complain, simply runs his hands up and down Harry's back until Harry sits back with a small bottle in his hands.

 

“Do you want to finger me open or should I do it?” Harry asks, staring deeply into Liam’s glimmering eyes.

 

“I can?”

 

Harry nods, biting his bottom lip to prevent the smile from overtaking his face. He then pushes the bottle of lubricant into Liam’s hand gently and motions for him to spread the oil onto his fingers. Liam follows his directions, accidentally spilling a bit on the garden floor.

 

Once his fingers are slick, Harry guides Liam’s hand behind himself and slowly pushes Liam’s first finger into his hole. Liam’s eyes widen as Harry allows Liam to do it by himself, trusting that he understands the concept, and clenches around Liam’s finger to ask for more. It takes just a few seconds afterwards, and a look from Harry, for Liam to come to his senses and slide a second finger in, fucking the two in and out of Harry's body slowly.

 

The warmth and tightness that Liam feels around just two of his fingers is beyond his explanation. Harry is amused by how astonished Liam is, but knows that saying anything about it would give him away.

 

Seemingly to combat what Harry said, Liam inserts a third finger with no warning. Harry gasps quickly before moaning, trying to ride Liam’s fingers with no prevail. Liam keeps his hand pressed up against Harry's ass, spreading his three fingers as far as possible to stretch Harry's hole.

 

“Liam,” Harry gasps out, breathing heavily into Liam’s neck.

 

To Liam, the exclamation means that Harry is stretched out enough, which is true, so he pulls his fingers out of Harry’s hole. Harry agrees completely. He feels perfectly ready to take Liam’s cock.

 

So Harry instructs Liam to smother his dick in the oil, amused by how eager Liam is. Harry doesn't quite know if Liam is eager to follow Harry's directions, or if Liam is just excited to get inside Harry. Either way, Harry finds it endearing. Liam truly loves him and wants him in every possible way. Harry is such a selfish bitch.

 

Liam dares not look away from Harry's eyes, attempting to read each hidden emotion in them so that Liam himself knows how to feel. If Harry is not worried then Liam doesn't need to be either. He just wants to know if he is alone in his feelings, but Harry keeps his locked up.

 

Harry reaches behind himself and takes Liam’s cock in his hand, stroking it a few times to assure that Liam spread the oil decently. He can hear Liam’s breath catch as he does so, enjoying the feeling of Harry’s hand gliding effortlessly over his cock. If Harry hadn't already told him otherwise, Liam would think that Harry has done this before.

 

Once he is ready, Harry lifts up slightly and presses the tip of Liam’s prick to his entrance. He slowly sinks down, breathing heavily and resting one hand on Liam’s chest.

 

“Are you okay?” Liam asks, rubbing Harry's sides, always so considerate.

 

“Fuck,” Harry swears. “‘M fine. You're just…. Big.”

 

Which is the truth. Out of everyone Harry has had sex with, Liam by far has the largest dick. That comes as a surprise seeing as Liam is only a demigod, and Harry had previously come to the conclusion that Gods just have bigger cocks. There's a part of Harry that wants to do more research to discover the truth.

 

When Harry finally bottoms out, he breathes out a deep sigh, head hanging down between them. He feels so incredibly full, like every part of him is just warm and full of Liam. It's comforting in a way.

 

“Holy shit,” Liam gasps as Harry starts moving his hips.

 

Harry thinks that's the first time he's ever heard Liam curse.

 

Slowly, Harry starts lifting himself up so that only the tip of Liam’s cock remains in his hole and then dropping back down. Harry feels it so deep within him, Liam’s cock rubbing against his prostate in a way that drives Harry mad. He has yet to fully adjust to Liam’s size, but he wants more, needs more. All Harry can do is ride Liam even faster, prick slapping his stomach, mind thinking of the pleasure over the pain.

 

Liam can seemingly only moan Harry's name and tell Harry just how great this is and how wonderful it feels. Harry nearly zones him out, letting a few of Liam’s sweet comments drive him on.

 

Liam’s words are slightly difficult to make out occasionally due to how little attention Liam is putting into them, but that helps bring Harry back from that space in his mind that he has yet to fully explore. He uses Liam’s words to ground him and Liam’s cock to send him away from himself. Harry keeps his hands on Liam’s shoulders to keep himself grounded physically.

 

Until one of Harry’s hands slips off of Liam’s shoulder and falls onto his own stomach, Harry doesn't even notice. But when Harry drops down, he feels something bulging at his hand from inside of him. Harry's eyes snap open in surprise and he flattens his hand against his stomach, feeling his stomach bulge with Liam’s dick. Liam doesn't get the chance to ask him what the problem is. Harry has thrown his head back and is back to riding Liam’s cock desperately.

 

Harry eventually grabs Liam’s hand and pushes it against his stomach so Liam can feel himself fuck Harry from the outside.

 

It takes a moment for Liam to process what Harry has just shown him, but as soon as he realizes, he groans and grips Harry's hips roughly, fucking up into him so that their motions counter each other and therefore reach even deeper.

 

“Liam, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Harry whimpers, dropping down just as Liam thrusts up.

 

His curls bounce up and down with, albeit slightly behind, his body, small grunts coming from his mouth every time Liam thrusts upwards. Harry is wild for it, reaching a hand around his own prick to wank himself in time with the thrusts. It doesn't take long for Harry to realize that if he keeps up this pace, he is going to come.

 

“L-Liam,” Harry breathes out, nearly letting a different L-name slip out. “Yes, shit, yes!”

 

“Harry, I'm-” is all Liam can get out before he spills into Harry with a shout.

 

His hands loosen from around Harry's hips and his entire body freezes, but Harry keeps riding him and stroking his own prick until he drops down especially hard and tenses, eyes closed, mouth open. Harry comes white ropes into his hand and onto both of their stomachs, inevitably getting some on Liam's chiton.

 

In retrospect, Liam's chiton probably should have come off before they began, but they were impatient.

 

Still panting heavily, Harry climbs off of Liam, wincing as Liam’s cock rubs Harry's sensitive rim. Had Liam not still been coming down from what Harry wants to call his first orgasm, Liam would have asked about Harry's grimace and made sure everything was fine. Seeing as how hazy Harry's post-orgasm mind is, he is grateful Liam didn't ask.

 

“That was fucking amazing,” Harry says after they have both had a moment to come down.

 

Liam looks at Harry and smiles a smile that makes Harry's heart skip a beat. He looks as if he still can't believe that this happened. Harry is proud to have made Liam feel this way.

 

“Not bad for our first time,” Liam laughs, wiping some sweat off of his forehead. “You look gorgeous.”

 

Harry doesn't think he's ever been complimented on his post-sex appearance before. His cheeks are rosy, his lips bright red, eyes sparkling green. His waist and hips are covered with imprints of Liam’s hands. His hair must look like a right mess, too. Yet Liam finds it attractive, finds him attractive.

 

Harry is in way over his head.

 

Liam himself looks pretty great as well. His cheeks are probably only slightly less flushed as Harry's, and he refuses to wipe the ridiculous grin off of his face. Harry want to kiss him until it's gone but knows that he should return to the Underworld soon.

 

“Where are you going?” Liam asks, voice sounding almost hurt.

 

Pulling up his chiton, Harry manages to get his foot twisted up in the fabric and trips as he attempts to take a step. Fortunately Liam is there to catch him before he falls, setting him back down on the bench next to him.

 

“Sorry,” Harry giggles. “I'm kind of all legs.”

 

The chiton strap that should be on his shoulder has fallen to his bicep, exposing more of Harry's chest than the garment is meant to. Liam gently fixes the strap, eyes trained on Harry's small arm before moving upwards to meet Harry's own eyes.

 

“I love your legs,” the demigod confesses, making Harry blush.

 

Three crucial words are left hanging in the air unsaid.

 

Instead of speaking those vital words, Liam decides to speak around the subject, getting as far from it as possible and nearly ruining his relationship with Harry.

 

“They're very dainty- you're dainty.” Harry crosses his arms. “I mean! Dainty as in… Like a flower. Very delicate, very beautiful.” Liam makes the smart decision to stop talking and rests his head in his hands, feeling like an idiot for running his mouth so unnecessarily much.

 

Harry purses his lips, twisting his hands awkwardly. He stares at Liam for a second before deciding to speak. “Do you like flowers?”

 

Liam looks back up at Harry, reaching out for Harry's hands. When Harry obliged, Liam envelops Harry's cool hands with his own warm ones. Harry blinks up at Liam, struggling to keep the smile off of his face.

 

“I love flowers.”

 

At Liam’s comment, the smile breaks through and soon Harry is practically beaming at Liam. Liam is sure that his heart has stopped as he stares at Harry because this, this is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Harry himself doesn't think he's ever smiled this brightly before, been this happy before.

 

“Thank you,” Harry blushes, looking down at their laps.

 

“For?”

 

“ _Everything_ ,” Harry breathes out rather dreamily. “The compliment, our dates, just being you.”

 

Liam’s chest is tight with all of the feelings he is keeping inside, tongue tingling with the words he is dying to speak, mind clouded with thoughts that should not appear until further in a relationship.

 

Harry stands up, wrapping his arms around himself before Liam can let any of these ideas fly. Harry is also the reason Liam hasn't already let them fly. Harry wants to take things slow, and Liam refuses to scare him off by rushing him. The only thing Liam wants more than to confess his true feelings is to keep Harry with him.

 

“Tomorrow, as well?” Harry asks hopefully.

 

Becoming accustomed to Harry leaving fairly soon after their dates, Liam has essentially given up hope that Harry will ever spend the night. He's less disappointed than he thought he would be, learning to appreciate the moments he does share with Harry.

 

“I’ll be here.”

 

 

_Ξ κόσμος Ξ_

 

 

“You had sex,” is the first thing Lord Louis says when Harry returns.

 

It's evident that Louis has been waiting for Harry's return, most likely anxiously awaiting any news on how to defeat his enemy. Harry has none, and he wouldn't be able to make anything up either. Lord Louis will have to wait a little longer.

 

“I did. Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“No,” the God says coolly, opening his arms for Harry to lay down in. “As long as you get the information I require, I couldn't give less of a shit who you fuck.”

 

Harry faces away from the Lord of the Dead, back pressed against his chest. Despite how isolating Harry intended the position to be, Harry still feels very close to the God. He can feel every time Louis takes a breath, and every minor movement that he makes. It feels much more intimate than Harry wanted to be with him.

 

Instead of fighting it, Harry decides to play into it. He refuses to let Lord Louis think he is uncomfortable. Harry just wants a few cards to hold. It's unfair that Louis gets the whole deck.

 

“I know it's weird because I just had another man inside of me, but do you want to fuck?”

 

Harry knows by how stiff Louis’ body goes that he is surprised by the turn of events. Harry anticipated that, next is the agreement. Of course, that comes quickly afterwards in the form of hands groping Harry’s ass and making their way to other parts of Harry's body, such as his hips and inner thighs.

 

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. Harry has been with Louis so many times in the years that Harry has been indebted to him that it's almost second nature to Harry by now.

 

He knows that Louis barely opens him up because he is still loose from Liam. Lord Louis would normally take his time with that, not wanting to risk hurting Harry and enjoying how desperate Harry gets.

 

He knows that he compares Louis is Liam, taking note of the way Louis’ comments are dirtier than they are sweet. He places a hand on his stomach, but can only feel Louis’ cock when he pushes down. He realizes that Louis is not Liam.

 

But there are some things that Louis does that Harry wishes Liam would do, like when Louis pulls Harry up, lays him face down, and fucks him that way. Harry likes the variety, even enjoys gripping the quilt and temporarily giving all of his power over to the God. Harry knows that it was Liam’s first time, but he wants Liam to be more assertive, more dominant.

 

Harry doesn't remember who finished first, barely remembers cleaning up afterwards, but he does remember the odd look Louis gave him before they went back to sleep. He was too exhausted to think about it too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was way longer than I intended. In reference to both the length of the chapter and how long it took to come out.
> 
> twitter:cozyrosyharry

**Author's Note:**

> My twitter is @cozyrosyharry.
> 
> Follow me, tweet me, urge me to hurry up with my updating of chapters, and please, please, please teach me how to use twitter.


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